


Tintin and the Incident with the Mulish Cork

by Auzzie



Category: Adventures of Tintin (2011), Tintin (Comics)
Genre: Gen, Inspired by comic, Set in 2011 movie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-21
Updated: 2014-11-21
Packaged: 2018-02-26 10:38:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2648975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Auzzie/pseuds/Auzzie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A hallucination.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tintin and the Incident with the Mulish Cork

**Author's Note:**

> Based on page 30 of "Tintin and the Crabs with the Golden Claws", yet set in the movieverse.

"Tintin... where are you? A drink..." the captain moaned, rolling to face the dune. "Oh, help me, I'm parched!"

His vision blurred as though looking at heat itself, and he saw what he sought: a hefty bottle of champagne, somehow barely pressing into the sand for all its mighty size.

"That'll quench anyone's thirst," he muttered as he staggered up and over the knoll.

The captain lunged at the bottle, gripping it tight in his hands. He toppled it over to better get at the cork, and tugged with what wary strength he could muster. The champagne sloshed like the sea in its bottle, but the cork refused to budge.

"This confounded cork. It won't come out!"

The dog loped over with a great bone in his teeth -  _Are we in the land of the giants?_  the captain wondered faintly - and knocked the cork with it. The champagne stilled, but the cork refused to twist out.

"Fair try-" the captain began, before the dog whipped its neck again and thonked him on the forehead. He slid off the bottle and collapsed in the scorching sand.

"You clumsy pup," the captain growled, rubbing at the knot in his head. He looked around in search of Snowy, but instead found himself touching noses with Tintin. Tintin, right where, only a moment ago, that mulish bottle lay.

"Blistering barnacles, what have I done?" The captain got to his knees and laid Tintin's arms to his sides. He felt for a puff under the young man's nose.

"Still breathing," the captain said with reverence. "Thank the heavens. Oh, Tintin..." He patted the other's cheeks over and over as he called out to him.

Snowy whined from Tintin's other side.

"I'm sorry," the captain said to them both. "I'm so sorry. Tintin, please, wake up, lad."

He pressed his aching forehead into Tintin's chest, choking on all his shame and fear.

"Please, Tintin, wake up," he begged. "Wake up, and I'll never take another drink of that blasted booze as long as I live."

When he looked up, the dog was gone. Nothing left but a camel bone in the dust.

There was nothing for it but to carry Tintin back to the shade behind the dune and lay him down until he came to.

It seemed as though for every grain in the desert, there was a minute that went by before Tintin lolled back into consciousness, and the captain was at his side until that last moment crawled away.

The lad's head drifted from side to side until he went too far and made a pained little sound. He blinked up at the man casting a shadow over him, blocking out the fading glare of the sleepy sun.

"Tintin," the captain breathed. "Tintin, I'm sorry for what I've done. I didn't know what I was doing."

"Captain," Tintin croaked, and swallowed hard. His face puckered in pain. "We must get out of this desert."

"We will, lad. I didn't want to move you any more than I had to until you came around."

"Where's Snowy? Snowy," Tintin tried to beckon, but it was little more than a listless croak.

"He ran off, lad. I think he's had enough of this place."

"No," Tintin said, jerkily sitting up. The captain shifted around to let Tintin lean against him as the young man continued, "He's a loyal dog. If anything, he's looking for help. But in such a deadly place... Captain, we have to find him before heat stroke does."

"We can't push you too much," the captain said, before switching tracks. He had to make sure Tintin felt his sincerity. "Tintin, I'm sorry."

"Captain-"

"Listen, lad, I made you a promise you weren't awake to hear, but by the name of Sir Francis Haddock, I swear to stand by it. I'll never taste a drink again."

"Did you say Sir Francis?" Tintin asked, perk pricking back into his face.

"Aye... Sir Francis! Tintin, I remember something!"

"Excellent, Captain!" Tintin tipped around so they were facing. He gripped the captain's forearms, and the captain held fast to his. "Tell me, what exactly do you remember?"

As he recounted the tale his grandfather passed down, Tintin's teeth glinted in his grin, in the last indolent rays until they rambled off beyond the horizon, until Snowy trailed back to them with two more saviors at his flanks.

Then, the captain thought the golden grains were not time, but his relief-the warmth that drizzled back into his gut.


End file.
